


I Keep Telling Myself I'm Not the Desperate Type

by queenhomeslice



Series: I Wanna Ride My Chocoboy All Day: Prompto/Reader Stories [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - High School, Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, F/M, Love Confessions, References to Drugs, Seven Minutes In Heaven Game, Spin the Bottle, fat reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21760069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: Seven minutes in heaven with Prompto at a house party—what could go wrong?
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Reader
Series: I Wanna Ride My Chocoboy All Day: Prompto/Reader Stories [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554340
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	I Keep Telling Myself I'm Not the Desperate Type

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a reference to Fall Out Boy's Seven Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen)  
> _______  
> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.

You don’t even know why you’re at this party. Well—record scratch, freeze frame...that’s not true. You’re here because of Noctis. And Prompto. _Mostly_ Prompto, who’s looking particularly delicious in a ripped muscle shirt and faded skinny jeans and old sneakers. Noctis is in his usual all black, but hey—it works, and Noctis could walk in wearing a banana costume and still be unfairly beautiful. 

You’re pretty sure someone’s spiked the punch because your classmates are a lot happier now than they were an hour ago, and the bowl has turned from a light pinkish color to a bright blue from who-knows-what. There’s a hazy mixture of chocolate and weed hanging in the air—the infamous brownies by the Augustine twins. There’s several couples making out on the couch and a bowl of candy on the coffee table—or, well, something tells you that it’s probably pills in the bowl, not Skittles. Ignis would be having a heart attack if he knew where the three of you were. 

Prompto’s pushed up close to Noct’s side as they stand in the kitchen and help themselves to the food. They’re giggling and laughing, and you watch from afar, slowly sipping your red plastic cup of punch. Then it’s empty, then you’re thinking _Fuck it_ and you make your way over to the bowl and get a new glass of whatever concoction someone illegally acquired. 

“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!” One of the baseball players raises an empty beer bottle above the crowd and chants loudly. 

Your classmates who are not otherwise occupied move to follow the team captain into a secluded corner of the empty dining room. Prompto comes up behind you and throws his arm around your neck, and his warmth runs down to your toes. You look up at his profile—sharp angular features, dark freckles scattered across ruddy cheeks, violet-blue eyes alight with a slight mischief, full pink lips begging to be kissed. You sigh, inwardly, and turn away before anyone else catches you staring. Noctis plops next you in the circle, knees touching yours, with Prompto squished up against your other side. You hate truth or dare _and_ Seven Minutes in Heaven, but it seems that the gods have seen fit to torture you this evening. Karma, probably, for being at a house party at 1 am on a school night. 

The game starts out relatively mild—a few smooches between people who are either already together or secure enough in themselves not to catch feelings for their classmates; Noctis is goaded into singing _Baby Shark_ , much to the delight of Prompto, who wastes no time recording it all; and a few reveals of _I totally cheated on the final_ and _It was me who pulled the fire alarm at lunch_ and the like. The bottle finally lands halfway between you and Noctis, who groans and slugs your shoulder. 

“I went already! It’s ____________’s turn.” 

The baseball captain gives you a knowing look. He’s not your closest friend, but he’s one of the few people friendly enough to you. Nevertheless, you can feel your heartbeat in your ears as he decides your fate. 

“Truth or dare,” he says. 

You swallow. “Uh...dare.” 

Whoops and cheers from the other seniors in the circle. 

“Dare you to go into the kitchen pantry.” 

You groan. “Seven minutes in heaven? Really dude?” 

“C’mon, don’t be a pussy!” he laughs. 

You roll your eyes and get up, shoving Noctis as you rise. “Asshole, this is your fault.” 

“Hey!” laughs the prince wickedly, stealing your drink. “I did my due diligence.” 

“And it’s already on MoogTube,” chirps Prompto, replaying the clip of Noctis singing the corny children’s song. 

“Dude, no!” whines Noctis, attempting to swipe Prompto’s phone. 

The argument fades away as you make a beeline for the kitchen and throw open the pantry door. It’s cramped, but hey—there's a half-eaten pack of Oreos on the shelf and you give into the temptation to snag one while you wait. 

Some indeterminate amount of time later, the pantry is opening and of course—of course _Prompto_ is stumbling in. There’s snickers and jeers on the other side of the door. The baseball captain pokes his head in the pantry and grins. “I’ll open the door as soon as seven minutes are up. Don’t do anything too naughty,” he winks as he shuts the door. 

You roll your eyes and look at Promtpo, who’s blushing as the door is shut behind him. 

“So,” he says. 

“Well, we’ve got seven minutes to kill,” you say hurriedly. “Uh, we could play King’s Knight?” 

Prompto sucks on his bottom lip—of course you’re staring at his lips, you’re _always_ staring at his lips—and moves closer to you until he’s inches away from your face. 

“Prom—hey—what?” 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks. 

Suddenly the whole world is both spinning too fast and standing still. You blink up at him in surprise. 

“Prom, we—we don’t have to play the stupid game just ‘cause they locked us in here, y’know.” 

“I know,” Prompto nods, fidgeting nervously. “But, still—can I kiss you?” 

Those are the words you’ve been dreaming of hearing for years—it's too surreal. You shake your head. “Quit fucking with me,” you say, chuckling nervously. 

“I’m not,” says Prompto. “I’m serious.” 

“Really funny,” you continue, trying not to cry. “Let’s all watch the fat girl get her hopes up and then get utterly humiliated.” 

“Hey--you really think I’d do that to you?” Prompto frowns. “____________, I’ve had a crush on you for forever.” 

“You—you what?” 

Prompto nods, cupping your chubby cheek in his long, deft fingers. “Please,” he asks again, face impossibly close. 

What else can you do except nod and close your eyes and melt into him? 

The pantry door opens to the scene of Prompto holding you in his arms, kissing away years of tension. You ignore the _I knew_ _it_ s and the tell-tale signs of cell phone cameras going off in rapid succession. 

Prompto pulls away from you, finally—he's staring down at you in a lust-filled haze. “I think I love you,” he chokes out. 

More whistles and jeers from your classmates. 

“Prompto, __________, time to go,” drones Noctis, already bored. 

You and Prompto stumble out of the pantry, hand in hand, smiling at your classmates. Noctis takes Prompto’s other hand and the three of you say goodbye to the student council president as you pass him, thanking him for the best party of senior year. 


End file.
